Tap On the Shoulder
by harvincy
Summary: There's a reason Alistair all too easily follows Teagan when he shows up at The Hanged Man to bring the former Grey Warden home after so many years. Alistair/Teagan
1. Tap 1: Redcliffe Docks

Tap #1: Redcliffe Docks

* * *

Kaven Amell knew it was a lie as soon as it left Alistair's lips. "Really?"

The would-be King nodded meekly, offering a few weak gags to supply a bit of foundation to his claims that a stomach flue had just magically overtaken him the second they were to enter Redcliffe Village's Chantry.

The mage rolled his eyes, already fed-up with Alistair's weak stomach and personality. "Fine, stay outside. Better you don't get in the way and muck anything up." He gestured for Morrigan and Leliana to follow, not caring if Alistair offered an apology or not.

Kaven's mabari (who he had refused to let Alistair help name and just called "Boy") sat expectantly at Alistair's feet, his tongue supplying a small pile of drool on the man's boot.

Feeling like a put-upon dog himself, Alistair none-too-quickly shuffled off towards the docks, wanting nothing more than to fall into the sea and float away far past where the water met the sky. Of course, that was not to be, as such actions surely would have dishonored any memories he desperately clung to of Duncan; he was not going to let that happen.

"I'm a Grey Warden, damn it! I may not want to be here, I may not want to see any reminders of my life before Duncan, but I'll not just toss myself into the sea like a worn-out scroll!" He struck a pose that would have made the heroes of legend blush, his fist held high in the air, his chin definitely pointed upwards.

Boy took notice and struck his own pose, which looked curiously close to how he stood when he relieved himself.

There was a tap on his shoulder, causing Alistair to whip around, his hand flying in a half-circle and smacking Teagan on his right cheek.

"Shit! Uncle! I'm— Here— This— Shit! Sorry..." Alistair's blush made even Boy hang his head and drape a paw over his eyes.

But Teagan merely chuckled, "Some things never change..." He rubbed a hand over the brightening red mark on his face and grinned. "That Kaven fellow said you had taken ill. I know you're a grown man, but I wanted to check on you, see if you needed anything."

Alistair's heart damnably settled in his throat, preventing any words from springing forth and joining hands to relay even a sentence to his uncle. But he could still sputter a bit incoherently, so he sputtered a bit incoherently.

"Are you... Alistair, are you alright?" Teagan attempted to feel the younger man's forehead for a fever and found himself holding the sizable man in his arms, passed out and sheet-white.

"Fuck." Kaven muttered from behind. "He really was sick."

* * *

Boy, in all his war hound wisdom, found the best medicine was slobber.

"Easy there," Teagan gently shooed Boy out of the small side library in the chantry that he had procured, closing the door to keep away the unwanted reminders of the ever-approaching battle.

Alistair slowly blinked his eyes open, the dim candlelight graciously not causing anymore pain to his head than necessary. "What happened?"

Teagan gentle placed a cup to Alistair's lips and guided a cool stream of water down his throat. "You fainted on one of the piers. That mabari licked you conscious, though."

"Ah, that's what that is." Alistair attempted to wipe his face but found Teagan was a bit quicker, producing a damp rag and wiping the drool from his nephew's chin and neck.

It was then that Alistair realized just how close the quarters were in which they found themselves and just how blue his uncle's eyes were.

Teagan's brow furrowed a bit, his hand ceasing its movement. "Are you alright?"

"Hm?" Alistair felt dizzy, the room starting to spin like a drunken, dancing Dust Town dwarf, the colors around him blending together and fading.

"Alistair, breathe!" Teagan reached back and slapped the boy hard, much harder than he intended in his worry, and watched as his nephew took deep breath after deep breath until a steady rhythm fell upon him. "Maker, lad, what's wrong?"

_I have an erection, dear uncle, that's all that seems to be wrong at this current juncture. _"I, uh, I don't know— Uncle, would you mind grabbing me, uh, something... that's... not... in this room..."

Teagan chuckled. "Tell me your name so I know you've no damage to your mind."

"Alistair Theirin."

"My name?"

"Teagan. Bann Teagan Guerrin."

The older man kept his gaze piercing into the younger's eyes. "Alright. That will do for now." He stood, extending a strong hand.

Alistair quickly took the offered help, as he figured if he were standing, there would be less reason for Teagan to glance at his crotch.

But, in truth, Teagan didn't need to glance downwards as Alistair shakily jumped off of the cot Teagan had procured for him too quickly and swayed forward into the older man's embrace; he felt the cause of Alistair's embarrassment on his thigh.

The Grey Warden muttered something along the lines of "finding the mage" and all but tripped out of the small room, leaving Teagan dumfounded.

* * *

When the red sun rose over the village after the night-long battle with darkspawn, Alistair was the first person whom Teagan sought. He knew not what he was going to say to the boy, but that did not dissuade him from his quest. The entire evening before, when plans needed to be made, Alistair had avoided him at every turn and ignored every call of his name.

He found his nephew helping to bring bodies of the fallen down to the docks for their proper send-offs. He was going to tap Alistair on the shoulder, but remember the reaction he'd had just the day before and decided to merely speak his name.

Alistair jumped at the voice too close behind him, dropping the body he had been carrying and scrambling to regain his dignity, holding the deceased man close to his chest to prevent another incident. When he felt his composure had returned, he cleared his throat, "Uncle? Something I can help you with?"

Teagan cursed himself. He was normally so good with words, a natural born orator, but the puppy dog eyes before him had his tongue curling backwards in his mouth. If he went about this the wrong way, or any way except the fucking _**perfect **_way, Alistair was going to get hurt. "I need to speak with you. In the Chantry. Please." _Yes. The Chantry. 'Come, Alistair, eat from my house made of sweets so that I might shove you into my cauldron and eat you when you least expect it! I shan't give off a suspicious air whatsoever!'_

Sputtering was something at which Alistair was becoming very skilled, but Teagan would have none of it. He took the body from Alistair, placed it into the hands of a confused soldier, and gripped the boy's hands tightly, none-too-subtly dragging him past the piers, through the village, and back into that damned too small room in the Chantry.

"Uncle—"

"Is this about your arousal, Alistair?"

"Maker's breath!"

"It's not uncommon for—"

"Please, Uncle, this is a subject best left for never."

"You were half-conscious with someone touching you; your body mixed its signals. Why should you feel such utter mortification?"

_Because I was fully conscious and my body mixed nothing. _"I really don't want to discuss this. Please."

Succumbing to the fact that he had indeed gone about this the wrong way and that his nephew was in the process of shutting him out, Teagan relented, gesturing for Alistair to leave the small room.

Alistair did so, racing back to the docks, where the smell of death was sure to sober him and keep his mind on much more important things than how blue Teagan's eyes were.


	2. Tap 2: The Windmill

Tap #2: The Windmill

* * *

Plans to advance to Redcliffe Castle were quickly made. Both Alistair and Teagan knew where their thoughts should have lay, but neither one of them were as focused as they needed to be.

Alistair's thoughts continually drifted back to Teagan's hands gently caressing—well, not really _**caressing**_ per se, merely cleaning Boy's drool off of his neck. But the sensation was absolutely pleasant all the same. Pleasant enough to cause a certain anatomical standing ovation.

It was said ovation that kept drifting to the forefront of Teagan's mind. He hadn't seen it, but he had felt it. And, Maker help him, his hand kept drifting down to his thigh where he'd felt the hot length through both his and his nephew's trousers. _Sort-of nephew,_ he thought to himself. _We are not truly related. _He stopped dead in his tracks as he made his way to the windmill set just outside of the village. Why was he trying so hard to justify his debauched thoughts to himself? _No,_he continued his trudging, shaking his head as if all the thoughts he'd had of Alistair that day would just tumble out onto the earth and he could step on them, crushing them into oblivion, never to be thought again. Those damn thoughts of Alistair's arousal resting on his leg. Those damn thoughts of feeling that arousal on his flesh instead of through clothing. Those damn thoughts of Alistair touching his own arousal and—

"Shit!" Perth laughed as Teagan roughly collided with him from behind, causing him to be shoved into the side of the windmill. "You alright, Teag?"

The older man blushed, attempting to smooth over his day-dreaming caused misstep. "Sorry, Perth. Heat's getting to me."

"No worries. Say, are you going to be up here a for a bit? I sent the other guards off to get some rest, but I didn't think to bring anything to eat. I don't want to leave the area unguarded."

"Go get food and rest, Perth. You've certainly earned it."

The knight nodded in thanks and set-off down the hillside to the village, humming a bit as he did so.

Teagan saw a barrel nearby and took residence upon it. The make-shift seat was the perfect height to bend someone over—

"No!" Teagan hadn't mean to let his inner thoughts break free and become a soliloquy, but they indeed did just that. "You're a middle-aged man with too many responsibilities to allow yourself to begin acting like a bloody young maiden in pig-tails. Are you absolutely daft, Teagan? Have you gone mad? You've need of a wife, an heir, a... Listen to yourself! Speaking of wives as if you've thoughts of keeping Alistair tied to you! Oh, Teagan, you crazy old man. He's a man, but a young man, and nothing has even transpired between you. Control your thoughts. How have you made it this far if a little incident like this has the power to throw your entire life for a loop?"

He jumped to his feet, rounding the mill and slumping against the backside of it, his gaze drifting over the village and Lake Calenhad. "What is wrong with me?"

A bit of rustling and the sound of a door opening and slamming met the man's ears, almost causing him to jump with the suddenness of it.

Without thinking, Teagan found himself unhurriedly making his way towards the door of the windmill, quietly pulling it open and spying Alistair hunched and sitting on a haystack, his back to the door.

Before he could stop himself, Teagan walked into the mill and tapped the younger man's shoulder.

Alistair started, a small yelp echoing in the round room, his eyes widening when he stumbled to his feet and found himself face-to-face with the man who had been running— sometimes naked —wildly through his mind all day. "Uncle—" Whatever else Alistair intended on saying was caught by Teagan's mouth and locked within the confines of their joined lips. Not that Alistair cared, mind you.

The thought "You're a terrible, horrible, filthy old man" warred with "Maker, his lips are so soft and he tastes incredible" as Teagan wrapped one arm around Alistair's shoulders and one arm around his lower back, pulling them flush together.

Alistair's hands didn't know what to do with themselves at first. Should they rest on Teagan's hips? Fist in his hair? High five each other? He settled with one hand gripping the back of Teagan's neck and the other tangling in Teagan's shirt, trying to pull him closer; it was in vain, though, as Teagan already had them practically melding together.

It took just the faintest touch of Teagan's tongue for Alistair to part his lips and welcome the searching muscle into his mouth, meeting it eagerly with his own. And were his hips grinding into Teagan's or were Teagan's grinding into his? Did he even care? Of course not.

After all those years of fighting what he thought could not, SHOULD not ever be, it was finally in his hands, in his mouth, on his back, surrounding him, filling him.

And it wasn't enough.

So when Teagan stopped his incredibly wonderful yet not-quite fulfilling movements, Alistair actually moaned in protest.

"I... I'm sorry," Teagan backed up until he bumped into the door, trying as hard as he could to reach behind him and open the damn thing, but his hands were shaking and his head was spinning and why couldn't Alistair not look at him like THAT.

It was by the grace of the Maker that the door finally fell open, letting Teagan stumble into the sun and the fresh air not made thick by Alistair's presence or sweet tasting mouth.

Teagan might have felt a sense of pride in walking away from the most tempting thing ever presented to him, but all Alistair could feel was a sense of emptiness and rejection.

"Well... Damn it."

* * *

Kaven was having none of the bullshit and he made it known. "How are we sure this woman's not setting us up?"

The Arlessa, Isolde, looked as if someone just said she wore wigs and danced naked amidst drunken dwarves on a nightly basis. "Teagan! Who is this... this..."

"Kaven meant nothing by it, Isolde," Teagan said, "I assure you..."

Alistair could barely keep up with the rest of the conversation, as his head began spinning when Teagan said he would be returning to the castle with his sister-in-law. "No! Uncle, how—" The look bestowed upon him stopped anymore words from engendering.

Teagan shot him the most silencing look he could muster, knowing that if the man continued to speak, he'd be done for— he'd never be able to leave him. "We'll rendezvous in the main hall. Understood, Kaven."

"Aye, aye, Captain. Let's get a move on before Alistair takes ill again. He's already paling."

Teagan didn't say goodbye and he didn't spare a glance at Alistair, which was something he both knew was for the best and regretted.


	3. Tap 3: The Main Hall

I'll just say that I refuse to truly rewrite scenes that I know everyone's seen and everyone's played. Why make you sit through my piss-poor rendition of something you can youtube? And there's no description of Kaven outside of the fact that he's a mage because, like the game, you get to personalize him. See, I was thinking of you!

* * *

Tap #3: The Main Hall

* * *

A tap to the shoulder could mean many different things, as Alistair was regretfully learning. Teagan had so far tapped him to get his attention, to shove his tongue down this throat, and now to swing a sword at his torso.

The Warden could find no words, merely falling back into the wall as he attempted to block the forceful blow with his own blade.

"Alistair!" Kaven was releasing flame after ice blast after mind wave and was still feeling slightly overwhelmed, though he'd never admit to feeling _**fully**_ overwhelmed. "Fucking hit him!"

Another barely missed swing from Teagan.

"NO!" Alistair ducked and ran on to the platform housing the thrones.

"Fine!" Kaven shot back two possessed guards simultaneously. "But I'm _**not**_ healing you!"

Boy showed up at an opportune time, as the intelligent hound was want to do, and grabbed a mouthful of Teagan's behind; it hurt more than anything the man had experienced, possessed or sane. Boy worried himself with keeping Teagan from the rest of the fight, pinning the man down and nipping at his face, his neck, his hands, any place to keep the man quite distracted and grunting in little shocks of pain.

It took Morrigan in bear form to shake Alistair from his reverie of what would happen should he stab Teagan and drag him back into the brunt of the fighting.

_All of of this because Connor just had to be a fuckwit little twerp and play with demons_, Alistair lamented to himself.

The moment the fighting was done, Kaven had Alistair pinned to a wall. "If you don't pull it together, _prince_, you'll be reunited with Duncan sooner than you planned," the mage punctuated his threat with a hard punch in the other man's shoulder.

Boy could sense the hold over Teagan abating and let his nips and bites turn into licks and sniffs, offering his version of, "Sorry, but you were kinda trying to kill my people, haha!"

With Boy finally removed form his torso, Teagan glanced around the main hall. _More death. Of course. Why did I think this would go smoothly?_ He found a hand in his face and lifted his eyes to see Alistair wearing a shy look, red tinging his cheeks and ears.

"Can I at least help you up or are you completely against any contact with me?"

Inwardly swearing at himself, Teagan took the proffered help and was pulled to his feet. _Maker, the lad's strong. No, not a lad. A man. A man I'm not related— Damn it, Teagan!_

Alistair shifted under the weight that Teagan's gaze held. "Um. Uncle, I think Isolde and the others need us."

"Right, right." Once again, Teagan tried the trick of shaking his head to empty his thoughts and crush them, but nothing happened. He was forced to play responsible adult yet again though he wanted nothing more than to play "frolic through the fields with Alistair. Then bed him."

Teagan was constantly forcing himself to listen to all the complicated sentences and four-syllable words that were endlessly spilling from everyone's mouths. He offered a phrase here and there, but to his ears it sounded like "cotton, wheat, red, fuzz, Orlesian elves" and a sundry mess of incohesive words. Apparently he made a great deal of sense to everyone else as the next coherent thought he had was Alistair, Kaven, and the rest of their group heading to the upper levels to seek Conner.

Alistair didn't say a word or glance over his shoulder as he left.

Teagan chuckled mirthlessly to himself. _Well, damn it..._

* * *

Alistair felt a juvenile sense of joy at giving Teagan a taste of his own medicine. But then a thought hit him: "We're going to find a bloody _demon_."

Kaven smirked, "Brain finally working, is it?"

"I just—"

"You just walked away with kissing your paramour on the cheek?"

Alistair's foot caught on the stone floor beneath him and caused him to collide with Leliana, so offered a knowing wink. "Oh, Maker. But nothing's happened! How could you people possibly know anything?"

Morrigan's face didn't need to be seen to know she rolled her eyes. "Boy has a better straight-face than you, Alistair. And your actions upon hearing we would need to speak with Teagan and in the previous battle made quite clear your feelings towards the man."

"But he's— I mean, I simply could have just cared or worried about him."

"Well, yes," Kaven agreed. "But your reaction just know proved that's not the case."

Alistair froze, allowing the others to pass him. "Maker's breath!"

Leliana spared a glance over her shoulder as she knelt in front of the door leading to the second floor and began picking the lock. "How long have you felt that way?"

"Please," Kaven interjected, "now's not the time for some idiot-woven love story. Save it for dinner. Or after dinner. Or anytime I'm not in the nearby proximity."

Alistair had never done so much shifting in his life and he thanked the Maker, Andraste, or whoever might be up there for Leliana popping the lock and swinging the door open.

Unfortunately, Connor was sitting before them.

* * *

"They should be back by now."

If Isolde opened her mouth one more time, Teagan was going to nug-tie her and stash her behind her own throne. He caught himself, steadying his breathing, pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm down. He had to remember that this woman, his sister-in-law, was facing the possibility of losing her only child and that her husband, his brother, was laying unconscious above them.

The only thing he could do was block out her voice, though the difficulty level of that was high considering how piercing her voice was. _I should comfort her. I _should_ comfort her. But I'm not, I know I'm not. Quite frankly, I want someone to comfort _**me**.

Isolde began pacing so haggardly that even in slippers her footsteps reverberated throughout the hall. "They should be back by now."

Teagan snapped, but less from her irritating voice and more from the realization that she was right. He was uninjured and had his sword; why was he sitting by idly? He quickly remedied that with by rising from his seat on the hall's platform and exiting the room, racing down the path to the second floor.

Halfway up the stairwell, he collided head-first with Leliana.

"Oh, my, Bann Teagan! Forgive me! I can be so clum—"

Teagan waved away her much-too wordy and unneeded apology. "Why are you alone?"

The bard's face lost a bit of colour, and that was all Teagan needed to see before he shoved her aside and took the stars two at a time, emerging into the hall and coming face to face with two unmoving bodies.

Connor's body was off to the side, his eyes wide open but seeing nothing.

What surprised him was that the two people who seemed to like Alistair least were kneeling beside his limp form, administering magic in quick waves, muttering to each other of what they thought about his condition.

Morrigan held her hands close to Alistair's head, a slight wrinkle of worry in her brow.

Kaven was the one that shocked Teagan the most. He was almost frantic as he let his hands roam up and down his fellow Warden's body, his mouth moving as if words should have been spilling forth, but anything he might have been saying faded. His eyes were tightly shut, cinching his face uncomfortably, but he kept forcing healing powers from his form and into the body before him. Had not Kaven almost expressed hatred for his nephew?

Tears were resting on the brim of Teagan's eyelids, threatening to break free and march down his cheeks in torrents. A light moisture hit his hand and he looked down to see Boy give him a sympathetic cock of his head.

"There!" Kaven jumped to his feet his hands excitedly running up his face and through his hair. "A pulse! Morrigan, hit him!"

Morrigan hit the Warden before her.

"Not literally, you forest-birthed bitch!"

Morrigan shot a small fireball at Kaven's feet.

There was a moment when Teagan's thoughts were going to rabbit-trail and begin wondering how this particular group of people got _**anything **_accomplished when the steady rise and fall of Alistair's chest caught his eye.

Teagan released the breath he didn't even know he held.

Alistair was alive. He would be alright. And they truly needed to talk.


	4. Tap 4: The Pantry

Tap #4: The Pantry

* * *

Isolde had been near inconsolable when faced with the body of her child; no one thought any less of her for it.

Teagan hiked up his responsibility belt and began handing out orders to the castle staff, over-seeing everything from the removal of the bodies to painting over the worst of the bloodstains. As strong as Alistair's pull over him had become, the morbid scenes surrounding him as he walked through the castle, his home, sobered him completely. And, even if a stray thought of the younger man tried to infiltrate Teagan's man, the Lieutenant merely thought of Connor and immediately went back to work.

But the servants and knights didn't need directions forever and Isolde was only allowing her most trusted handmaiden in her chambers. It was only when Teagan had assured himself that things would be fine without his guidance for the night that he slipped away to the kitchens.

While the kitchen staff was never around at all hours, the rooms stayed lit for late-night snackers, which was fine by Teagan as he was normally the one sneaking down to the food cellars when he couldn't sleep.

Thankfully the kitchens had been well cleaned post-battle so Teagan could have a few moments of sanctuary. Closing the doors quietly behind him, me made his way across the large room to the pantry, but stopped when he realized it was wide-open and a man was inside talking to himself.

"...not going to do anything. I can walk! I hit my head rather hard, but I'm fine. Can't keep me locked-up without food; I'm a Grey Warden, of course I need a load of food..."

Without even seeing the younger man fully, Teagan grinned, allowing his feet to bring him closer to the open door, leaning against the frame and crossing his arms, waiting for the Warden to turn and see him.

"...never have cheese. Why do they never have cheese?" Alistair was grabbing an armful of bread, apples, dried meats, and a jar of a thick white sauce that he knew would be good over lettuce, if he could find lettuce. When he felt he had enough for his first course, he turned to leave, only to drop everything at the sight of a man leisurely relaxing against the doorjamb. "Shit!" He grabbed his chest, his heart feeling like it was going to burst forth and do a waltz across the smashed jar at his feet.

The older man chuckled, "I know where they keep the cheese."

"Really?" Alistair ignored the mess he'd made, becoming almost embarrassingly excited at the prospect of getting a mouthful of his favorite food.

Teagan's grin held fast as he stepped over the dirty food and slid past Alistair, careful not to allow them to touch, before reaching the back of the pantry. "This is like a decoy pantry; all the food that's okay for anyone to slip in and eat without the cooks becoming hysterical. The real treats..." he seemed to hit a hidden switch, causing the back wall to slide open, "...are here."

Alistair stared a bit in awe as another pantry twice as large as the one in which he now stood was revealed to him. "How did I never know about this?"

"Perhaps Eamon didn't want to hear the cooks constantly complain of a lack of cheese."

The blush that covered Alistair's face and drifted past the collar of his shirt was becoming a regular part of Alistair's look; Teagan thought it was beautiful. So beautiful in fact that Teagan fought tooth and nail to not grab the younger man by the waist, pull him deeper into the pantry, and shove him against the shelves.

After several heated moments of Alistair trying to look away and Teagan trying to keep from just pouncing on the man like a kitten attacking catnip, the tooth chipped and the nail bent. Teagan gingerly reached out and tapped Alistair's shoulder, waiting to see those hazel eyes before taking Alistair's hand in his own, lightly tugging the younger man forward until they were chest to chest.

Alistair's breath hitched, his pulse racing, a light sheen breaking out on his forehead despite the lightweight pants and tunic he wore.

Teagan held Alistair's head between his hands, his thumbs brushing his cheeks. "I cannot tell you how worried I was," he murmured, keeping his lips just out of kissing reach. "When I saw you lying there, the life gone from you... it was all I could do to not throw myself on my sword and join you."

"Bleak," Alistair managed to chuckle.

Teagan joined him. "I know, I know. But I was also cursing inside."

"Why?"

"Firstly, that the Maker has such a sense of humour as to let us discover each other now of all times." His thumbs ceased their movement, his face suddenly darkening. "Connor was a child not even in the midst of battle; you're _**in **_it, Alistair. If it can happen to Connor..."

"Connor took a demon into his body, something I have no intentions of doing." Alistair found himself stretching his fingers out and running them through the shorter man's hair, playing with the braid down the left side of his face.

Teagan's voice dropped to a murmur, forcing Alistair to strain to hear, "You may not take one into your body, but you've faced them down in battle, and you'll have to do so again. You'll face far worse, Alistair, and that kills me."

"You... you care about me..." Alistair's face lit-up as a thought dawned on him and he clutched it tightly to his chest as if it would fly away and spit on him if he didn't do anything to keep it close. "You _**care**_ about me."

"I—" Teagan stopped himself. His initial intent was to replace "care" with "love" but thought better of it. Yes, true, he did love the younger man and it was a love that was slowly, no, rapidly transforming into something that he could no longer contain within a box, even with the sturdiest latches. "I _**do**_ care about you. I always have."

It was Alistair's turn to initiate the kiss as the fingers that had been playing in Teagan's hair slid down the shorter man's neck, down his back, and gripped his hips, making sure he wasn't going anywhere.

But, of course, Teagan had no intentions whatsoever of leaving. He returned Alistair's kiss with every bit of care he could summon and matched the younger man's fervor with his own rapidly growing ardour. He reached behind Alistair and hit the switch that closed the door to the hidden room, "Just in case," and shoved the other man a bit more roughly than he intended against the reappeared wall.

As Alistair found his hands pinned over his head and Teagan's tongue lazily dueling with his own, a familiar voice floated into their current sanctuary.

"...shouldn't be up without supervision. I told him I'd get him food— What is this mess? Maker, you know he's been here! But what happened...?"

Alistair broke the kiss and let his head fall back and hit the wall a bit roughly. "Kaven..."

Teagan chuckled, "They won't find us."

"Leliana," Kaven's voice sounded a bit closer to the wall, "look at this."

The wall slid open, Alistair and Teagan falling roughly to the ground, Alistair groaning in embarrassment and Teagan blushed and tried to offer an explanation of, "There was no cheese."

Leliana giggled like a Kossith was holding her down and tickling her ribs.

Kaven just swore.


	5. Tap 5: Bathing Chambers

I personally believe you should listen to Sara Bareilles's "Stay" while reading this.

That or "Weird Science" by Oingo Boingo. Whatever keeps your taco hot.

* * *

Tap #5: Bathing Chambers

* * *

_Damn it_, Teagan thought, _I'm actually bouncing. _He stood on the hillside at the entrance to Redcliffe much like a puppy sits at a front door waiting for his master. Not a mabari puppy, mind you; a mabari puppy would piss on your pillow and litter your hall with dead rats while you were gone and expect you to be gratful about it.

After the little pantry incident, Kaven had dragged Alistair back to his room, insisting Teagan "just use your hand tonight" because Alistair had just banged his head _**again**_ and he didn't have enough brain mass to risk damaging anymore. Obviously, Kaven felt he had a great deal of healing to do. But then, the next morning, Kaven and his group left early without barely so much as a goodbye.

Teagan understood the sudden disappearance; he knew Kaven was anxious to track down Andraste's Ashes, but, Maker, they had been gone over a month and, damn it, he just couldn't take it anymore.

He was about to retreat from his daily morning look-out when he saw the unmistakable bounce of Boy; now, Boy was the _**only**_ mabari Teagan had ever seen that _**bounced**_. Boy would also most likely be the only mabari that didn't piss on your pillows and do the dead rat thing while you were gone.

Teagan wrestled with just how regal and professional he had to be. Leliana and Kaven had already witnessed him and Alistair together; he didn't care about Morrigan; and Boy certainly wouldn't care. But if a villager or a passing knight saw, it might raise some questions... He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice a new figure saunter up to him and give him an appraising once-over.

"Mm. You are this Bann Teagan, no? You must be, for I've heard tell that he is the most handsome man in Redcliffe and you are—" Before the short elf could finish his sentence, he was being dragged away by Kaven.

"Teagan, Zevran. Zevran, Teagan." The mage kept walking as to avoid a true, in-depth conversation about the fact that the elf was a Crow and why an assassin was now a part of their sundry, patchwork group. "Zevran, leave Teagan alone. Teagan, don't accept any massages from this tricky bastard."

"Ah," Zevran giggled— _**giggled**_** –**as he was being unceremoniously dragged behind the mage, "you know you had quite an... _**explosive**_ ending to that massage, dear Kaven."

The mage stumbled over an imaginary rock in his path and fixed a threatening glare on the Crow. "I swear to Andraste, the Maker, and the wood-birthed bitch's bun: _**SHUT UP**_."

Zevran could still be heard as he and Kaven trekked the hillside to Redcliffe Castle, "That made no sense, my dear Kaven. You swear to them 'shut up'? That is not even grammatically correct, I believe."

Leliana and Morrigan passed by Teagan with mere nods, a bright smile from the bard but not the mage, and then it was Alistair's turn to approach.

Teagan had been stroking Boy's head, paying extra attention behind the ears, and did nothing to hide his smile when he saw the Warden. "Welcome home, Alistair."

Alistair stopped in his tracks before even reaching the older man. "Home?" He let the word roll over his tongue, taking long moments to decided whether or not he liked the taste. He drank Teagan in like a dying man would a jug of water. If this man, the man before him, was welcoming him home, then he would most assuredly call it home. He said the word again, "Home." It tasted better than cheese.

"Yes, home." Teagan shooed Boy up the hill after the others and gestured for Alistair to do the same with him. "I would like to think, when this is all over, that you would consider making Redcliffe your home again while I reside here."

"While you reside here?"

"Yes. Once things have settled, I do intend to return to Rainesfere." He allowed a pause just long enough to make Alistair squirm before adding, "And it would make me quite happy if you would join me."

Teagan received his answer in the form of Alistair's fingers threading through his own and gripping his hand as they walked.

Their pace was leisurely, which suited them both just fine. It suited Boy just fine as well, as it allowed him time to mark every damn rock, patch of grass, meter of dirt, and rabbit that they passed. Well, he _**tried**_ to mark the rabbits; it was actually a lot more fun than biting off their heads.

Teagan knew he was selfish— He was happy just as long as Alistair was there beside him, the rest of the world be damned. But... "Maker's breath, Alistair!" The Bann dug his heels into the soft dirt and turned to fully face the taller man. "The ashes! I've been so bloody distracted I didn't even think to ask!"

That remark filled Alistair's ego to the point of bursting. "I distracted you to the point of forgetting about your dying brother?"

A groaned "Alistair..." was accompanied by a lighthearted eye roll.

As soon as Alistair said, "We've brought the ashes," he found himself all but dragged the rest of the way to the castle, Boy finishing marking one final, angry rabbit before chasing after them.

* * *

Everyone knew full well by that point that Kaven hated waiting even more than he hated bullshit. And he was being subjected to both far too often to his liking. As he skulked to his room he was so _**graciously**_ offered by Eamon, he saw Teagan exiting his own chambers, a towel and change of clothes in hand. "Oi, Bann!"

Teagan glanced down the hall to the mage and nodded in acknowledgment. "Something with which I can you, Kaven?"

"Yes, actually. Your brother's a right prick, you know that?"

"Yes, and I wish I could help you with that, but apparently it's an incurable condition."

"He's been unconscious for months and he just pops up and thinks he knows every little thing? Insulting me and my companions as if we've not one cogent thought amongst us?"

"In the prick's defense, he only started to come down on you after Zevran slipped behind him and cupped his rear."

Kaven growled and closed the gap between them, his face inches from Teagan's, "I could give three fucks what Eamon thinks of my abilities, though he may have pissed me off with his holier-than-thou attitude and attempts to tell me I'm less than worthy of fighting the Blight. But it's you, Bann, who pose the real threat. Granted, I actually like you—"

"Paint me stunned."

"—and it pains me to even have this talk with you, but... Teagan, I need you to leave Alistair alone."

"Wh-what?" Teagan broke off into a laugh. "I don't know what you're on about—"

"I'm serious. Not only are you a distraction, but you're a hindrance to what needs to be done."

If Teagan's brow furrowed any more, his face would cave in on itself. "I'm not quite understanding."

"I've plans to put Alistair on the throne. Alistair _**will **_be put on the throne."

With his heart in his throat, Teagan found he could not even swallow and began coughing pitifully.

"I'm sorry, Teagan. Truly. You know I say nothing in vain. So please listen to me now: If you continue on with this, I'll be forced to end it myself; and you don't want that." Not waiting for a reply, Kaven slipped past Teagan to his room, the slam of the door seeming to echo across the entire third story.

The Lieutenant felt as if a battering ram had connected with his chest and he was forced to use the wall to steady himself, his hand slipping on the stone wall from the sweat that had suddenly appeared over every portion of his skin. Kaven Amell was someone whom you simply did not test, despite his youth or deserved arrogance. While the mage may have said he liked Teagan, he was not above destroying him if it meant Alistair would take the throne.

The decision had been made for him before he even knew there was a choice to be made.

With a shaky breath that failed to calm him, Teagan continued on to the bathing chambers.

Pushing the door open, Teagan was greeted with the sight of a flustered Alistair trying to keep a towel around his waist as an unabashedly naked Zevran was all-too-innocently advancing on him.

"Alistair, friend, I promise it will relieve all the tension you carry in that broad frame of yours."

Teagan cleared his throat. "Redcliffe has a no massage policy, I'm afraid, Ser Elf."

A knowing smile found its way to Zevran lips and he bowed slightly. "My apologies, Bann Teagan. Allow me to leave and go forth with a promise to solicit no more volunteers for my magic fingers." Grabbing a towel from a nearby bench, the former Crow brushed past Teagan and into the cold hall.

"I can't believe he's walking through the castle like that..." Alistair muttered. He looked to Teagan and smiled. "I was hoping you'd get here soon; I was afraid Zevran was just going to tie me up and use his 'magic fingers' on me. Now come on, the water's actually still hot." He turned his back to the older man and was dipping a foot in the small pool before him when he felt a hand tap him on the shoulder. He jumped a bit, the towel falling from his hips, and turned to face the other man.

The sight before him made Teagan gasp; he had no idea he could think Alistair more beautiful than he already did, which made what he had to do all the harder.

"Teagan?"

The Bann shook his head, his eyes locking with Alistair's, his heart picking up a pace. "You just said my name."

Alistair shifted yet again under Teagan's gaze, his normal blush traveling along his limbs and torso to cover his entire body. "Teagan is your name, isn't it?"

"Yes. Yes, but you've never just called me 'Teagan' except for that time in the Chantry, and that was only because I made you. I've... I've just never before heard my name freely on your lips."

Shy though he may have been, Alistair took the step needed to bring him close to Teagan, a small, mischievous smile on the verge of spreading across his face. "I can say it again, Teagan. I can say it as often as you'd like." He leaned in to place a kiss on the other's lips but found them retreating. "What's the matter?"

Teagan had taken two steps backward. "Alistair... Alistair, I'm sorry, but this needs to end. Truly, has it even begun? Regardless, I'm a fool who made a mistake."

"Mistake? What are you talking about?"

"You're the heir to the throne now. And a Grey Warden. What was I thinking asking you to come to Rainesfere?" Two more steps backward were taken. "I'm so, so sorry, Alistair. This just... this was such folly."

"To think we could happy and find that happiness with each other is folly?" Was his heart breaking? His heart was actually aching in his chest.

Teagan waved him away. These were words he never wanted to speak, but he could only imagine how Kaven would go about separating them. "I apologize for ever starting this. Alistair, please forgive me. Please forgive me one day. Just... start again." With that, he fled from the bathing chamber.

Naked and cold, Alistair was left with nothing.


	6. Tap 6: Gnawed Noble Tavern

I was almost finished when I realized I meant for this story to stay 'T' and had to chop up the last bit. So...

And there are a few contradictory statements of travel time throughout DA:O, so I split the difference with how long it would take Teagan to get to Denerim.

* * *

Tap #6: Gnawed Noble Tavern

* * *

Word came in of Kaven Amell's group doing the impossible at almost every turn. From the Brecilian Forest to the Circle Tower to Orzammar and the Deep Roads, the sundry group was making quite a name for itself. After the better part of year, after all the incredible deeds under their belt, they were returning to Redcliffe.

Teagan had retreated to Rainesfere after the group left to begin garnering allies for the impending war, but soon found himself shuffling back to help his brother with all the tiny, trivial, aggravating, bloody, shitty...

"Don't you have someone for this?"

Eamon never bothered to look up from the scroll before him as he scribbled away at his desk. "You've been acting anxious lately and taking it out on the servants; I'd like to keep you occupied before you drive them to mass suicide. Dismissed."

Teagan did a metaphorical double-take. "Did you just say 'dismissed' to me?"

"Dismissed, Teagan. The dogs won't walk themselves."

Incensed far beyond the harshest meaning of the word (and not the "smelly" meaning, either), the Lieutenant stormed from his brother's study, not caring who he shoved past or how roughly he shoved past them. The man had developed a disturbing habit of muttering to himself on a near-constant basis and the castle help was developing a necessary habit of avoiding the man by any means available, some even taking to ducking behind tapestries and flattening themselves against the walls when no real cover was in the near vicinity.

"The dogs won't walk themselves, my arse." Teagan quit bothering to lower his voice when he ranted; better that others share in his aggravation anyway. "There's at least two dozen young men frolicking through the halls of this damn stone prison; why can't one of them do it? No, Teagan, just because you're a Lieutenant doesn't mean you should be allowed to do more than watch the dogs run and pick up their shit!"

"Lovely. So, you're too good for a job that you've had no problem assigning to others in the past?"

Teagan halted so quickly his heart almost ejected from his chest. He slowly looked to his left as Alistair led the, now larger, troupe into the castle courtyard.

"Alistair... I..." For a man who did nothing but voice his thoughts and narrate his movements for the past eight months, Teagan was suddenly speechless.

With a shake of his head, Alistair led the group into the castle without introduction. Even Kaven merely gave him a nod but refused to speak. Leliana offered a small smile, but everyone else filed inside.

Left with too many racing thoughts to settle on any one, Teagan tended to the dog shit.

* * *

They were to leave for Denerim immediately. Well, everyone except Teagan. _**Apparently,**_ someone said something to someone else about something that another person may have said to someone one night behind a closed door that might have been overheard by someone else who thought it best to say something to someone who could have done something about it because now it seemed that everyone thought Teagan had something of an unstable mental condition so there was no way he could travel and be of any help. All because he had spent months talking to himself.

Teagan decided he was going to find out who told who about whatever it was that they thought he had, and he was going to make sure _**they**_ spent a great load of time cleaning out the dog pens. "Suitable punishment," he said to himself.

His thoughts kept returning to that night in the bathing chambers with Alistair. It was the dumbest thing Teagan felt he had ever done. And irrational. And without thought. And much too quick.

He hadn't even truly given Alistair a chance to react. He most certainly had not hung around to watch the younger man's face crumble before him. How would he have been able to walk away?

That was why he usurped Eamon's orders and slipped away to Denerim to help prepare for the Landsmeet.

Or, if nothing else, to speak with Alistair.

* * *

Zevran wouldn't leave him alone, and it was all Alistair could do to not grab a squirrel and shove it down the elf's trousers.

"Are you positive you're not looking for a little distraction, friend?" Zevran raised his eyebrow suggestively for the... 67th (Leliana had been keeping an accurate count) time since leaving for Denerim.

Alistair was out of retorts and he only knew how to say "no" in two languages and one rude hand gesture. Thankfully, when Zevran got bored with trying to bed the Warden, there was Wynne and her bosom to draw his attention.

With the elf occupied (and Alistair feeling no pity towards Wynne having to endure his advances and bad puns), the Warden trailed to the back of the troupe, Boy being the only company he wanted or suffered. He though back on the day before when poor, unsuspecting Leliana had only wanted to ask if his canteen needed refilling and he thought it appropriate to reply with calling her a nosy bitch of a bard, earning himself hard glares from just about everyone. Even Boy had nipped his heel.

But now left alone with the only intrusion being Boy's rhythmic trotting beside him, Alistair's thoughts were left to roam around the shadowy, depressing regions of his mind, which meant, of course, that all he thought about was Teagan. For eight months all he had thought about was Teagan. How was he even still functioning? How, distracted as he was, had he fought bloody Flemeth and a Broodmother and werewolves and blood mages and lived?

Because he fought for Teagan, that's why. He knew it and he hated it. The second a threat imposed upon him, Alistair imagined Teagan and fought for him, which made him an unstoppable force.

Alistair's incredible, almost new-found killing sprees in battle were the only thing keeping Kaven from doing what any good leader should do and speak to his comrade about what was bothering him. And it was obvious to anybody with eyes (and a few blind chipmunks) that Alistair, almost over night, had gone from a joke-cracking, almost light-hearted affable youth to a cynical, hardened man.

Kaven knew he should speak with Alistair, but, in doing so, he might have to admit a certain conversation he had with Teagan months ago. And, in doing that, he might have to admit his plans to place Alistair on the throne. And placing Alistair on the throne was something he truly did not want to discuss just yet, as it would give the other Warden more time to form an argument against doing so.

Kaven kicked a stone before him and decided he was speaking with no one for a while.

* * *

It was the eve of the his eighth day of travel when Denerim filled Teagan's sight and he almost cried from sheer joy. The poor man was hungry (he hadn't packed enough food and had no time to truly hunt on his way there), exhausted (sleeping on the ground was never restful), and wanted nothing more to apologize to Alistair (even if the younger man turned him away afterward, he _**had**_ to apologize).

He knew Eamon and Kaven would have arrived not much longer before him, but Teagan was not going to make himself known just yet. By going to the estate right off, he risked, not only a very long lecture from Eamon on why he was supposed to stay in Redcliffe, but also being sent away. So, with that in mind, he rented a room at The Gnawed Noble.

What Teagan didn't realize was Alistair also had no intentions of staying at the estate on his group's first night in Denerim. The younger man's plan was to destroy his thoughts of Teagan with two steps: First, with drink; second, with a stranger. Losing his virginity to a stranger was certainly not on his life's list of things to do, but he couldn't keep going down the path he was traveling. Teagan had rejected him; he had to get over it. Unfortunately, his grand plan to do that was getting piss-drunk and rutting with someone whose name he'd never remember come the morning. Besides, he'd discussed the whole scenario several times over with Boy, and the mabari had agreed with him wholeheartedly. Or had he disagreed tremendously? The Warden convinced himself it was the former. Although, why he was seriously taking Boy's opinion into consideration was anyone's guess.

Alistair entered the tavern and immediately made his way to the bar when something to his right caught his eye. Or, well, some_**one **_carrying a satchel and a plate of food. "Teagan...?" But it _**couldn't **_have been Teagan; hadn't Eamon made him stay in Redcliffe because of some unstable mental condition he had developed? At least, that's what Kaven had said.

The man who looked like Teagan was already up the stairs leading to the rooms before Alistair kicked himself mentally and followed after him. He was too slow as, when he reached the top of the stairs, the mystery man had already taken to his room. No sign of life. Not even any sounds.

Having decided he'd imagined the man, Alistair began to make his way back down the hall to the main room when he heard a door creak open somewhere behind him. Freezing at the stair's landing, he waited until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"What in Thedas would bring someone like you to a place like this?"

Refusing to turn around, Alistair took a deep breath. "Someone like _**me**_?What do you mean by that?"

There was such a blunt plea in Teagan's, "Look at me, Alistair," that the younger man had no choice but to slowly turn on his heel and find himself almost chest-to-chest with the other man.

Teagan wasted no time in launching into an explanation of his actions all those months ago while trying to leave Kaven out of the conversation. It was almost impossible. Teagan couldn't lie to Alistair; he refused to lie. If it meant throwing Kaven under the wagon, it was just what had to be done.

"You're to be put on the throne," he said finally, "and, if that is the case, there's no future for us. I had to walk away, Alistair, but if I could list only one regret in my life, I choose that."

Alistair's thoughts were racing so wildly that they couldn't settle or allow him to voice any of them. He found himself taking the older man by the hand and leading him into the room whose door Teagan had left open. After several long minutes, he finally murmured, "Let's start again."

Teagan nodded almost enthusiastically. "I'd like that." He paused a bit before gesturing to a small beside table upon which sat a plate of cheeses. "Hungry?"

Eyes gleaming cheerfully, Alistair sat upon the bed, happily picking up the plate and popping several chunks into his mouth. "Delicious," he said between bites.

Teagan moved to stretch out beside him on the bed, resting his folded hands on his stomach. "You seem quite eager to move past... everything that happened, all of my idiocy."

Sighing, Alistair set the plate back on the table before lying next to the other man and staring at the ceiling. "With everything that I've seen over the past months... I should have died countless times. I suppose, after knowing what Kaven did, it's just not worth staying angry. Especially now that... now that you're right here."

When Teagan looked to his right and found Alistair's eyes locked with his own, all control slipped from his grasp as he rolled onto his side and wrapped an arm around Alistair's torso, causing the younger man to do the same. The meeting of their lips was anything but gentle, and Teagan found himself thrilling at each touch both from and to Alistair; he never told himself to stop or slow down, instead moving more rapidly with each passing second.

While Teagan had seen Alistair naked before, he treated the removal of the other man's clothes as if it was a tremendous gift that had been bestowed upon him; and, in truth, it was. But when it came time for Alistair to reciprocate the action, his hands began trembling. Teagan found he had to guide the younger man.

"It's alright," he murmured into the Warden's ear, allowing himself to indulge in licking upwards along the ear's shell. The trail of licks and kisses he began was leading down Alistair's neck and collarbone, making its way to the Warden's chest, but was stopped suddenly when Teagan felt strong arms pulling him upwards again.

Alistair nuzzled into the crook of Teagan's neck. "I want you right here, Teagan. I want you to take me, but I want you right here." His lips found Teagan's again, but there was nothing rough or hurried in the motions, just two people melding together.

Alistair's mind was practically shut off as he felt Teagan prepare him while whispering soft encouragements in the Warden's ear, their lips barely leaving each other.

And then Alistair was taking Teagan within him, and it was painful and beautiful and it brought forth laughter and it brought forth tears and it caused his heart to fill and burst and it made him swear that he would never leave and he never wanted the other to leave and then Teagan's name was spilling from his lips in prayer and it was all he could do to not die from sheer joy in that one moment.

Then it was over, but not truly, for all it did was signify a larger beginning. Or that was Alistair's hope.

Teagan found himself lying beside Alistair, pulling the younger man to him and kissing his temple before murmuring how much love he had for him and drifting into the most restful sleep he had ever experienced.

Alistair did the same, but not before reaching over Teagan to the bedside table and grabbing one more piece of cheese.


	7. Tap 7: The Landsmeet

Tap #7: The Landsmeet

* * *

Alistair had been fine with Kaven insisting he not be the one to fight Loghain one-on-one; the mage wanted that honour for himself, seeing as he hated the man just as much as Alistair did. So when Kaven lowered his staff and allowed Riordan to help the disgraced Teyrn to his feet, Alistair balked. But when Kaven said he was going to allow Loghain to go through with the Joining, Alistair saw red.

"Kaven, there's no possible way in Thedas you can mean this!" Alistair felt himself shaking to the point that, had he been holding his sword, he would have lost his grip on the hilt.

"Alistair," Kaven turned a much harsher gaze than necessary on the man he was still hoping to crown King, "don't turn this into an even bigger scene than it already is. We won, alright?"

"We won? Are you jesting? After everything this bastard has done, you'd just let him waltz into our order?"

It was all Kaven could do to not set Alistair on fire. He leaned in as closely as he could and whispered, rather harshly, "Did you not listen to Duncan? How many times did we hear 'The Wardens are needed to stop the blight'? _**Needed**_. And now there's only two of us— three if you count Riordan, which, quite frankly, I don't. You don't think there might be a reason? And Anora's right: He could die during the Joining. But, if he makes it, we'll have one more sword willing to die in the final battle. And, trust me, I plan on making sure Loghain volunteers for all the really hard fights."

Alistair seemed to hear none of it. "I refuse to accept it!"

"For fuck's sake, Alistair! You are truly dense, you know it? Would you let pride and grudges keep you from accepting help that could quite possibly affect the outcome for the entire whole of Thedas?"

Alistair's second, "I _**refuse**_ to accept it," was ground out so tightly that it caused Kaven to take a step back.

"Don't..." The mage found that he was speechless. For once. And because of fucking Alistair, of all people. "Don't do anything rash."

"Rash like you sparing this snake?"

"Like walking out on us. On me. On everything Duncan was hoping we'd build."

"Don't you dare bring Duncan into this to guilt me!"

Anora, Maker bless her, did the idiotic thing of trying to intercede with a threat to Alistair's life.

In turn, Kaven gave her a harsher threat.

But Alistair had officially had enough, choosing to simply turn on his heel and walk as proudly as he could out of the Landsmeet and out of the Grey Wardens.

Kaven, forsaking pride, ran after him like a man possessed. "I'm not letting you do this!"

They were out of the main hall now, and Alistair took a good hard look at his, suddenly, former brother-in-arms. Admittedly, he'd never seen Kaven look so disparaged, which, considering all the shit they had encountered over the past year, was saying a great deal.

Trying to cling to _**some**_ form of dignity, Kaven took a deep breath and let his words remain as placid as he could, "How, after everything we've experienced, can you walk out on me now?"

"How could you betray me as such?" Alistair snapped back far too quickly.

"Betray you? Alistair, I want you to see the end of this journey! I just can't imagine why you think I would spare Loghain for any other reason than the fact that there must be some grand reasoning for needing the Grey Wardens to end all of this!"

The no-longer-future-king waved him away and continued his stride outside. "I'm tired of taking everyone's shit, Kaven. I've had it. Farewell."

The mage watched him leave, pinching himself to make sure he hadn't somehow fallen into the darker part of the Fade.

Having not taken twenty steps from the royal palace, Alistair felt the tap on his shoulder and, thinking it was Kaven again, whipped around so fast he sent Teagan flying backwards on his rear. "You as well, Teagan? You're wasting you're breath if you're thinking you can get me back there."

"Why would I try to force you back when you so clearly wish to leave?" The Lieutenant's voice was clear and even, judgment very far from his tone. Sadness, however, did edge into his eyes.

"I—" Alistair was taken aback. "You're not going to try to convince me to stay?"

"I want nothing more than for you to change your mind and return, but what would that do? Just know, Alistair, that when you leave, you'll leave me as well. And... as much as that would hurt me... I'm not going to force you to stay."

Alistair seemed almost hurt at that, but, in truth, was he not hurting Teagan just as badly. "You have to understand, Teagan, you must."

Closing the distance between them, Teagan let the back of his hand slide down the Warden's face and cup his cheek. "I do. Which is why, hard as it is, I can let you walk away."

Alistair closed his eyes and leaned into Teagan's touch, his voice not as sure as it was just moments ago, "Is it too much to ask that you come with me?"

There was a slight chuckle before the older man murmured, "You feel it is your duty to walk away for something in which you so firmly hold convictions; I feel it is my duty to stay and fight for that in which I believe. That's just the way it is, Alistair. Shame what we had couldn't... It just wasn't mean to last, was it?"

"What happened to 'starting again'? Isn't that what you told me before?"

"And you can. But perhaps you have to do it on your own."

Unfortunately, Alistair hadn't thought far into the future when he made his snap decision to abandon everything. "I don't think I can."

"You can. And you will." Reaching into his shirt pocket, Teagan retrieved a handkerchief with his initials embroidered near the seam and tied it around the younger man's wrist. "You can always come home to Rainesfere. Know that. No matter what may transpire, I'll never turn you away from my doorstep."

Tears had never so heartily threatened to display themselves on Alistair's cheeks than they did at that moment. "Teagan, you have to know that I l—"

Before the three words Teagan knew he shouldn't hear left Alistair's lips, the older man pulled him into a deep kiss, his arms wrapping so tightly around Alistair that it was as if the Lieutenant was making one last wordless plea for the Warden to stay.

Alistair returned the act with every ounce of feeling he could scrape from deep within himself. This was it. He was truly walking away and _**nothing**_ was taking the journey with him.

Breathless, Teagan pulled away, his forehead resting against the Warden's momentarily as he took in the younger man one last time. "The Blight is not yet ended, Alistair. Take care of yourself."

Nodding was the only thing Alistair found he had any strength to do. Before he could reconsider, he took a few steps back before finally breaking Teagan's gaze and jogging down the hillside.

It took endless seconds before Teagan stepped back into the palace and saw Kaven sitting on the floor, his head lolled back against the wall, his eyes pinched tightly shut. "Anora's queen. Riordan will have Loghain go through the Joining tonight. Eamon's as happy as a bear with tits about everything for some reason." The mage let the weariness creep into his bones that, until then, he'd successfully kept at bay. Rubbing his temples in a vain attempt to alleviate an on-coming migraine, he muttered, "If _**you **_couldn't convince him to stay, there was no hope at all that he would change his mind." Standing, he paced restlessly for several long moments before suddenly kicking a nearby vase into a thousand sharp pieces. "FUCK! How am I supposed to do this without him? This has been our quest from the very beginning!"

What shocked Teagan was the fact that he wasn't the least bit shocked by Kaven's outburst. Despite all his bellowing and criticism, it wasn't hard to see how much the mage cared for his fellow Warden. "You'll press on, like you always planned to do."

"Yes, but I always planned for Alistair to press on by my side."

"Then, if you cannot press on _**with**_ him, press on _**for**_ him."

"Is that what you intend to do?"

"It would seem I'm left with no other option."

With one last sigh, Kaven composed himself and reclaimed his air of calm. "It would see you're right. Hopefully he'll be alright out there."

Teagan hoped for that as well.


	8. Tap 8: The Hanged Man

Tap #8: The Hanged Man

* * *

Seven years. Teagan rolled the number over in his mouth once to get the taste for it. He still couldn't believe it had been that long.

As soon as the Arch Demon had been struck down, Teagan raced to Rainesfere, hoping against hope that Alistair would just be waiting for him after realizing running away was not the answer.

But it had been seven years of waiting. And for all those long years, rumour after rumour spilled forth of where the once future king might have landed in his quest to flee the Wardens. Most proved fruitless, but this one... this one Teagan had a fool's amount of faith in, as it had been supplied to him through an anonymous note that was scribbled in handwriting looking far too much like a certain mage's.

He watched as Knights and bums alike parading in and out of the bar that he stood before, feeling his gut knot and untie in an endless cycle of nerves. Screwing his courage to the sticking place, the Lieutenant pushed over the filthy door and was immediately smacked in the face with weed smoke, the over-powering scent of cheap ale, and an uncontrollable level of noise that he likened to young hyenas.

But he stepped inside regardless, a quiet voice telling him he was exactly where he needed to be. The crowd was thick to the point that it was almost impossible to distinguish faces. Thankfully, he wouldn't have to hunt.

"It wouldn't matter _**what**_ I told you, would it?" One voice rang out not far from the Lieutenant.

A white-haired Elf huffed a bit and turned on his heel, stomping past Teagan and into the dense crowd. But it was who the elf left behind that caught the man's attention.

"I'm still here," Alistair was speaking to himself. "When will they learn I'm not moving."

"So there's nothing I could possibly say to make you change your mind?"

Mid-gulp of hard ale, Alistair froze. He was hearing things again. But this time the illusions was far, far too real. But, illusions didn't tap a person on the shoulder, did they? Because this one did.

When the hand met his shoulder, Alistair turned his gaze upward and right into the blue depths of Teagan's eyes, the older man offering a smile of both love and relief.

"So. You _**are**_ here. I was beginning to think I'd have to send out all of Rainesfere to find you."

"What—what are you doing here?" Shocked— Alistair fit the truest description of the word. It had been seven years without one word from any of his former companions. But now, here was the one man he'd have given his right arm just to catch a glimpse of. And he had actively sought him out. "Teagan..."

Hand still on his shoulder, Teagan leaned forward until his lips were brushing Alistair's ear, "What could I say?"

Barely able to catch his breath, Alistair's response of, "You already know," came out in a hitched whisper.

And the former Warden was right: Teagan did know exactly what to say. "Come, Alistair. Start again."

Having no more words, Alistair stood, the arm that bore Teagan's handkerchief wrapping around the older man's waist, having no qualms whatsoever about following Teagan from the bar and into whatever fray Teagan presented.

And he was just fine with that.

* * *

-End-

* * *

It would seem that the fluffy journey's over. Thanks to everyone who came along for the ride!


End file.
